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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22705474">Sweet Tooth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureSummoner/pseuds/AzureSummoner'>AzureSummoner</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chocolate, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:46:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22705474</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureSummoner/pseuds/AzureSummoner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warrior of Light celebrates the First's version of Valentione's Day by making chocolates for the Scions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch &amp; Warrior of Light, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sweet Tooth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Does this count as fluff?  Did I write fluff?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Imagine the Warrior’s surprise (and dismay) to find that the First had its own version of Valentione’s Day.  Almost overnight the Crystarium was strung up with red-and-pink heart shaped banners, balloons, and all other manners of decoration that one might imagine for such a holiday.  It was also every bit as commercialized as it was on the Source, for the goldsmiths, botanists, culinarians, and others were clamoring about the markets with jewelry, flowers, sweets, and more.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet, the Warrior felt something stir within her at the sight of men and women, young and old, bustling about to purchase tokens of affection for lovers and loved ones.  Ah, yes. The familiar pang of loneliness. For all of the sights she had seen and the adventures she had undertaken, there had never quite been anyone alongside her for the journey.  Friends, she had aplenty. Lovers, seldom. But someone who could truly stand by her side through all of her trials and tribulations, a person who would slog across the beast-riddled terrain with her by day and keep her warm at night… there was no one.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Warrior watched the citizens bustle to and fro, making merry as they kissed, held hands, sang songs, exchanged gifts.  She sighed. It was pointless to stand around lamenting that which she lacked. Love would not simply fall out of the sky and strike her upon the head, and watching happy couples dally along the streets was doing nothing to improve her unusually blue mood.  What she needed was a distraction. The true spirit of Valentione’s Day encompassed more than only romantic love. It was a day to celebrate affection and gratitude for the people that one held most dear, and if the Warrior allowed herself an ilm of breathing space, she could admit that the Scions had been precious friends throughout her journey across two worlds.  If there were no lover on whom she could dote for this holiday, she could instead express appreciation to those who have accompanied her this far. It was with this thought in mind that she set about the markets with renewed vigor, flitting among the culinarian’s stalls for the ingredients that she would need.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took no small amount of pleading to the Crystal Exarch, but with his help the Warrior had managed to procure a modest kitchen space wherein she could set about her work in privacy.  This was to be a surprise for her friends, and, she supposed she should include the Exarch as well in thanks for his assistance. And so she laid out her materials: sugar and milk, vanilla and cocoa, and just a bit of hot pepper, among other miscellany.  She quickly found the necessary culinarian’s tools for her use, and before long she had busied herself with measuring out ingredients, boiling water, sifting powders, and generally making a mess. Yet, her persistence paid off as the dark mixture came together, and soon she had managed to fill the cute heart and ribbon-shaped candy moulds she had procured from the markets.  She couldn’t help but smile a little at her hard work, and already her spirits were lighter than they had been all day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So busy was she with preparing a second batch that she failed to notice another presence with her in the kitchen, until she turned around to set the cooling candies on a spare counter space and nearly collided with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Emet-Selch!” she cried in alarm, and had he not caught her hands to steady them she would have dropped her confections to the floor.  He said nothing and she blinked twice, and only then did he release his hold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“While Light Wardens gallivant about the First, the hero hides indoors playing homemaker,” he chided, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the countertop.  The Warrior grimaced at his poor attempt to prod her and… well, now he was in the way. She made a very pointed gesture of peering around him, and when he failed to move, reached around him to set the candy moulds down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen,” she huffed, trying her best to pretend that the Ascian had not invited himself along to her alone time.  This was disrupting her rhythm. It had </span>
  <em>
    <span>already</span>
  </em>
  <span> disrupted her, she needed to take care while boiling the ingredients and he… he needed to leave.  “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Scheming, or… I don’t know, taking a nap?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome,” he sighed in dramatic fashion, rolling his eyes at her attitude.  “What sort of mummery is this, anyhow?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pushed off of the counter as the Warrior moved about the kitchen, finding all manner of ways to get underfoot.  Where she reached he hovered, when she sifted he leaned over her shoulder, and even around the flame of the stove he couldn’t be bothered to grant her three fulms of personal space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What in Zodiark’s name are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, my dear?” he queried.  He </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> sounded as if he were genuinely curious, so the Warrior spun on her heel to face him, hands on her hips, and gave him the most exasperated look that she could muster.  She opened her mouth to speak when he rudely interrupted--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait.  Wait, wait, wait…” he waved a hand as if he were dismissing her, then curled a fist against his lips in thought.  “Ah, I see it now. The decorations, the merriment, and the Warrior of Light exhibiting such strange, </span>
  <em>
    <span>maiden-like</span>
  </em>
  <span> behavior…  This is--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She huffed, more loudly than she had intended, and slapped her forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is your </span>
  <em>
    <span>lover’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> holiday, isn’t it?”  Emet-Selch wagged a finger in the air as if he had made a most fascinating discovery, while the Warrior recoiled in embarrassment.  “You Eorzeans and your… </span>
  <em>
    <span>quaint</span>
  </em>
  <span> traditions.  Well, what are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go away, Emet-Selch,” she sighed, but of course it did nothing to deter him.  The poor Warrior, she tried her best to return to her work and ignore the undesired company, while Emet-Selch made a show of waltzing about the kitchen to study her mannerisms.  It was painfully obvious what she was up to, but he seemed to draw some small amusement from feigning ignorance. And so the Warrior resigned herself to tolerating his presence as she returned to sifting through powders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now, I would not profess to being much of a culinarian myself,” he said, watching the woman at work.  “That sort of thing was best left to the servants. However, hero--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She made a rather unbecoming sound as she startled when his arms circled around her waist, and…  She stood rigidly as he tied the apron in place around her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It would be a shame for you to sully your clothing when there are perfectly good protections for your use.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emet-Selch had already retreated, but it took some time for the Warrior to relax her shoulders again.  She was half-prepared to take the nearest object and throw it in his direction, but that would be giving him too much power in the situation.  If he knew that he was getting a rise out of her, he would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> leave her alone.  She mentally sighed and got back to work, sifting the powders, mixing and boiling ingredients.  Briefly, only </span>
  <em>
    <span>briefly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she considered that even Lahabrea may have been easier to deal with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually the Ascian tired of the silence that stretched between them and sought to stir the pot once more.  Literally, he was stirring the pot. The Warrior nearly leapt across the kitchen to shoo him away from the stove, all she needed was for him to bumble her work when it had taken so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>time</span>
  </em>
  <span> (and more than a little of her coin) to procure the ingredients.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do not.  Touch. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  She accentuated the last word with a flustered wave of her hands, silently cursing herself for showing any degree of emotion to the Ascian.  Give him an ilm and he would take a malm. Or, in Emet-Selch’s case, many malms.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he huffed and crossed his arms once more.  It was pettish, his behavior, but if it kept him out of the way then the Warrior didn’t care at this point.  The second batch would be readied soon, perhaps one more after and her work would be complete. She moved the liquified candy from the stovetop to a bowl, stirring in the pepper and spooning it into moulds.  Had she even bothered to sample the confection herself? No, not since Emet-Selch had unceremoniously dropped in. The Warrior swept a finger through the mixture left behind in the bowl and promptly stiffened as she was seized by the wrist.  A shiver crawled up her spine, deliberately, vertebrae by vertebrae as Emet-Selch sucked her fingers into his mouth.    </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Spice?  Now there’s an interesting flavor.  I may be forced to admit, my dear, it would seem that you have some skill around pots and pans,” he quipped.  The Warrior tugged her hand from his grasp and turned away, trying to hide the heat in her face. Just a little more.  Just a little more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She maneuvered around the man, popping the cooled candies from their moulds, sifting powders, mixing and melting ingredients, pouring into moulds, repeating the process.  By some miracle the Ascian allowed her the space to work, and eventually she had manufactured four batches of the confections, also creating a sizable mess in the process.  Now all she needed to do (other than clean up) was to package the sweets and see them off to her colleagues.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>chocolates</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Emet-Selch drawled, as if he had only </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> figured this out.  He peered over his shoulder at the pile of candies, arching an eyebrow at the implication.  “Doesn’t this tradition of yours dictate exchanging such fripperies with a beloved?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh no.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, who is it, Warrior?” the man asked through a much too pleasant smile.  “That bestial Hyur friend of yours? Your mysterious Exarch?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman quickly tied off the bow on a package of the candies and rather forcefully shoved them into Emet-Selch’s hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Here</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  I will give these to you if they will make you </span>
  <em>
    <span>go away</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she insisted.  The Ascian’s stupid grin faded to perplexment as he looked down at the small box in his hands.  He tilted his head as if considering them for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I was not prepared for this, hero.”  She had no chance to question Emet-Selch, for he was quick to snag an arm around her shoulders and pull her against him as his mouth descended on hers.  Her surprised squeal did nothing to help as she gripped the fur trim of his coat, and strangely she found herself warming at the smell of leather and sandalwood that clung to him.  And then it was over. Emet-Selch released her all at once, and she wobbled backwards as if the world had just been set off-balance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m quite flattered, my dear, though I fear I shall cease to be a gentleman if I remain much longer.  I shall bid you a good evening.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Warrior shook herself from her stupor, only in time to catch the Ascian’s flamboyant wave of farewell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Happy Valentine’s Day… or whatever you call it,” he smirked, disappearing into a cloud of dark aether and leaving behind a messy kitchen and one very frazzled Warrior.  She hobbled over to the counter and bent over to press her cheek against the cool surface, hopefully drawing some of the heat out of her face. Once she had taken a moment to catch her breath she could clean up the mess, finish packaging her chocolates, and run off to deliver them.  And then she was going to take a nice, cold bath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was how the Warrior of Light chastised herself for catching feelings on a holiday.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you are a writer and/or enjoy FFXIV fics, come join a very friendly and enabling group: https://discord.gg/ftFnYbe</p><p>Find me on Twitter: @AzureSummoner</p></blockquote></div></div>
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